


Eight Cups of Coffee and Two Hours of Sleep

by therentistoodamnhigh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Humor, No shipping, anne is gonna get so tired of their shit so fast, it's pretty fun trying to make the egos as creepy as possible, lots of shenanigans, this is just practice writing darkiplier for me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:09:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentistoodamnhigh/pseuds/therentistoodamnhigh
Summary: She just wanted to get a job to pay rent, not get involved with creepy, physics-defying alter egos of a man she’d only heard of in passing on the internet.Apparently paying rent now involves playing secretary for someone whose aesthetic can be succinctly described as Executive Goth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing darkiplier and the others, so please be gentle. this will probably have multiple parts, idk.

_This is probably the dumbest decision I’ve ever made_ , the young woman thought as she sat in the stark waiting room. It had started with a discreet, unassuming help wanted ad online: “Secretarial position available, previous experience desired. High tolerance for strange occurrences required,” it said and then had provided a number and an email address to contact. She’d been desperate for work, having been laid off from her last one and rent was still due. The address she’d been given was for a building downtown that she hadn’t noticed before, despite having been down that road a hundred times before. She had then stepped into a clean lobby empty of people and breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the air conditioning.

A sense of oddness had started coming over her when a man in a blue shirt with a white G on the front had greeted her impersonally and guided her silently to the top floor of the building. She’d been shown to a dreary and generic office waiting room and been told, “He’ll be with you shortly,” and then left to her own devices. Apart from the faint hum of the air conditioning, it had been absolutely silent, and it unnerved her. She sat down hesitantly and waited.

She’d been waiting for exactly 12 minutes when the other door in the room swung open precisely 45 degrees with a quiet click. A male voice out of sight bid her enter. A grey-scale office greeted her and the sharply dressed man behind the desk told her to close the door behind her. 

“Please, have a seat.” The man’s voice resonated strangely, like he was standing in a reverb room despite the carpet and the host of books on shelves. The man himself was also colored in greyscale, or at the very least appeared very desaturated.

She glanced down at herself to make sure that she hadn’t lost her color as well and the royal purple of her blouse seemed to pop against her monochrome surroundings. A sense of discomfort began creeping up her spine. The woman sat down in the leather chair and leaned against the back, careful to keep her posture straight. A faint ringing noise registered in her ears, and as she waited for the man to look up from his paperwork she realized that he was kind of difficult to look at, like her eyes were trying to focus on something, but couldn’t quite do it. He seemed to overlap with himself, with red and blue copies shifted slightly to the left and right.

The man looked up and for an instant, an overwhelming feeling of dread washed over her, but then he smiled charmingly and the feeling passed as his visage resolved into a normal face.

“How are you doing today, Miss-” he paused briefly, glancing down at the papers on his desk, “Anne Dearhart? Is that correct?”

“Yes it is, sir. I’m doing well today, thank you.” She smiled at him in return, hoping her smile looked friendly and not strained like it felt.

The charming smile was back. “Good, I’m glad. My name is Dark. Unconventional, I know, but I’m afraid it’s the only thing I’ll respond to these days.”

Anne couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a joke. He’d said it so matter-of-factly and casually that a warning bell pinged behind her sternum.

The interview proceeded in a normal fashion, with questions about previous experience, strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing. It wasn’t until the fifth questions that Anne realized that he bore the same exact face the man in the lobby did. The sudden realization threw her and she struggled to keep answering the question smoothly. The stream of questions ended after some time, and the man in the suit kept eye contact with her for a long few moments, searching for something in her expression. Anne fought down the slight tremors in her limbs beneath the weight of his gaze. 

He seemed to sigh and come to a conclusion. He picked up the receiver of his desk phone and pressed a couple buttons before bringing it to his ear. “Wilford. Come to my office in the next 5 minutes.” A faint reply. “Doesn’t matter what for, just get in here, you pink buffoon.” He set the receiver down with a long-suffering sigh, but said nothing more. After a minute of waiting, another man suddenly poofed into the room, accompanied by a pink glittery mist, between her and the desk and Anne squeaked, startled by the abrupt proximity. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Darkiepoo asking for my services,” the new man drawled with a strange accent. “What can good ol’ Warfie do for you today?" 

The man that had been interviewing her sighed, and the high pitched noise returned. "First of all, I thought I told you to never call me that. Second, would it kill you to use the elevator like a normal Ego, Wilford?" 

"Oh, but there’s no fun in that!” Wilford exclaimed, walking around to the side of the desk. Anne could see that Wilford, as his name was, had a pink (?!) mustache and also had the same face as the other two. Were they triplets or something??? “It’s so much more exciting this way, don’t you think?”

“No,” the other replied flatly. “Wil, this is Miss Dearhart, one of the candidates for the secretarial position.” He gestured to you. "Miss Dearhart, this is Wilford Warfstache, one of my... business partners. He runs a television show. Feel free to ask her a couple questions, Wil.”

Wilford’s face lit up and dread washed over Anne anew. Wilford bent to Anne’s eye level, bracing his hands on his knees and began asking rapid-fire questions that Anne could barely keep up with, gesticulating wildly the whole time.

Dark cut off Wilford mid-sentence. “That’s enough, Wil. Anymore and you’ll overwhelm her.”

“Well, _fine_ , mister grumpy pants. I _guess_ I can go easy on the human for now,” Wilford said with exaggerated disappointment.

“You’re dismissed, Wilford.” Dark made a shooing motion with his hand.

Wilford sighed dramatically. “Alright, okay. I’ll see you you later, Darkle Sparkle!” Wilford disappeared in puff of glittery pink mist.

When Anne returned her gaze to Dark, he was grimacing but his face quickly smoothed out as he made a few more notes on the sheets in front of him. He said nothing for some minutes, focused on the paperwork.

Just as Anne began to fidget uncomfortably, Dark gathered the papers and tapped them into a neat stack.

“You’re hired,” he said plainly. “When can you start?”

Anne blinked, surprised. “Oh! Thank you, sir!” What day was it? Wednesday. “I can start on Monday, sir.”

Dark smiled, a little too widely for Anne to be comfortable. “Excellent. Now here’s what you will need to know for your training on Monday...”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Monday was six hours of training, which consisted mostly of familiarizing herself with the filing system and the finances. Anne was then informed of the reason why everybody in the building had the same face, which was to be kept strictly secret from anyone outside the building. She was also given a tour of the building and introduced to all of them: Wilford Warfstache (the eccentric tv show host), Googleplier (all four of him), the Host (the soft-spoken blind man), the Silver Shephard (an awkward superhero), Dr. Iplier (a well-meaning but rude health professional), Ed Edgar (a hillbilly?), Bim Trimmer (an egotistical and generic tv host), the King of the Squirrels (a distracted man with peanut butter on his face), and Yandereplier (whom she was instructed to stay away from at all costs).

Her very first task was to retrieve a stack of documents (statistics, apparently) from Google. The door that indicated Google’s labs was marked by a simple capital ‘G’ in blue, red, green, and yellow with no apparent handle. Anne knocked carefully but firmly on the door and it slid open with a quiet pneumatic hiss. A dimly lit room greeted her and she stepped inside hesitantly. The door hissed shut behind her.

There were four doors, each lit around the edges with the soft glow of one of the four colors of google. There’s the sound of soft beeping and humming and Anne felt... unnerved, for lack of a better phrase. The most prominent feature of the room, however were the four androids sitting with perfect posture in the center with their backs to each other, wires plugged into the back of their necks trailing down to the floor and to the walls. Their softly glowing eyes stared into oblivion, unseeing but focused on something she couldn’t see. They sat perfectly still save for the in-sync rise-fall of their chests. Creepy.

Anne cleared her throat softly.

All four androids turned slowly to face her, cloth shifting and chairs creaking. “Do you need assistance?” the one in blue asked.

“We are equipped to handle almost any request-” began the one in red.

“And we can answer any questions you have,” finished the one in yellow.

“Uhm...” Anne tried not to quail beneath the impassive gazes of the androids. “Dark wanted me to get some statistics from you guys?” She glanced down at the paper Dark had given her. “Something called “mentions trends”?”

“Of course. I will print those off right away,” the blue android said. “One moment, please.” His eyes returned to focus on the unseeing middle distance for a few moments. 

A printer Anne had previously not noticed started up and she flinched.

“There’s no need to be frightened, Miss Dearhart,” the green one said far too cheerily. “While our secondary objective is to destroy mankind, we have been given explicit orders to exclude you from those parameters.” Something approximating a friendly smile crossed his face. “You are perfectly safe with us, Miss Dearhart.”

“That’s- that’s very reassuring, thank you,” Anne said with no small amount of restrained sarcasm.

The androids merely blinked at her, the sarcasm seemingly gone over their heads.

The printer went quiet. The blue android unplugged himself from the wires and walked with strange precision towards the printer. He picked up a slender sheaf of papers and swiftly and precisely bound them inside a clear plastic binder before walking over to Anne with that same deliberate precision. He held the binder out to her with two hands. “Here are the requested documents.”

Anne delicately took the binder from him. “Thank you,” she said softly.

The android lowered his arms. “Is there anything else-”

“-we can assist you with?” finished one of the sitting androids.

“Uhm, no, that was it, thank you,” Anne said uncomfortably, trying to smile.

The androids began speaking in turn. “Alright. Don’t hesitate-” 

“-to ask one of us-”

“if you ever have a question.”

“Have a nice day.”

Anne’s smile went tight, perhaps resembling more a grimace than a smile. “I- thank you. Have- have a nice day as well.”

“Your sentiment is appreciated,” they said in unison.

Anne suppressed a shiver. “I’m- I’m gonna go now. Uh, bye.” She half hesitated as she turned back towards the door, hyper aware of the androids’ gazes on her back as she walked out of the room. The door hissed closed behind her and she all but collapsed against it. She exhaled loudly, wearily. This was going to be a very long week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne meets some more Egos. Things are are getting weirder and more dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know it's been almost four months since the last chapter and i'm really sorry ^_^' college kicked my ass this last semester but i passed all my classes!
> 
> i also got a beta reader, so future chapters will be of higher quality, hopefully. consider this a christmas present!

Anne's next stop after the Googles was to Ed Edgar's floor to fetch his new budget, which Dark had specifically told her to extract from him no matter the cost because it was three months late and he was tired of waiting. Approaching his door, Anne could see that it was open and hear conversation within. She stepped over the threshold and knocked.

"Come on in," Ed Edgar called, his redneck accent a little more distinct than usual. 

Anne stepped in and was immediately hit by a stereotypically masculine scent: woody and dense, punctuated by sharp cologne, the musk of unwashed sweat, and... peanut butter? Oh, the King of the Squirrels was here too. Reflexively, Anne shut the door behind her. 

"What can I help ya with, darlin'?" Ed asked. 

"I need your budget for the third quarter, please,” Anne said, adjusting her grip on the file Google gave her.

"Oh, is that all? I'll be right back with that, you just wait one second." Ed stood up and walked to another room, leaving her in awkward silence with the King of the Squirrels. 

Anne glanced down at her to-do list and noticed she could get two errands done at once. "Oh! Uh-" she floundered for a moment, unsure how to address him, "your majesty?" 

"Just call me King of the Squirrels," he said, patting at the peanut butter on his face. A squirrel chittered on his shoulder.

"Alright, Mr. King of the Squirrels, Dark wants you to take another headcount of your subjects and to place an order for their food if need be," Anne said cheerily.

King's eyes widened at the mention of Dark, but relaxed at the request. "When does he want it by?" 

"Next Friday, please." 

King nodded to himself, pulled out a little pad of paper, and wrote a little note on it. "I'll get that done as soon as possible," he told Anne. The squirrel on his shoulder nosed at his peanut-buttered cheek.

At that moment, Ed walked back in and handed her a couple pieces of paper that looked like they'd been crumpled and smoothed out several times, held together with a length of twine through a hole punched crudely in the corner. "Here ya go darlin', it took me a bit to find it." 

Anne took the paper delicately, noting the rings of coffee stains. Despite its appearance, it was definitely the budget she needed. "Thank you, Mr. Edgar," Anne said, wondering idly why Dark had had so much trouble getting the budget out of him. “Alright, if I need anything else from you guys, I’ll let you know.” Anne turned to leave the room.

“Hey, hey, just wait a minute here, where are ya goin’, darlin’?”

Anne froze, internal red flags going up at the way Ed was addressing her. She turned slowly back towards him. “Uh, I’m going to take these back to Dark.”

“You don’t gotta do that, you could join us! Me and King here were just chatting about the good ol’ days, I’ve got a real whale of a tale to tell ya.” Ed clapped a hand on Anne’s shoulder and steered her toward the couch.

Anne’s first mistake was allowing Ed to push her onto the couch. Her second mistake was allowing him to start telling stories. Her third mistake was trying to be polite by waiting until there was a pause in the conversation. Two hours had passed and Ed and the King of the Squirrels showed no signs of slowing down their story telling. He was apparently trying to sell his son? Which, not okay?? What the actual fuck, Ed. Anne had half a mind to inform Dark about this, but she had a feeling he might already know.

“-but when  _ that _ was all over, I had to take the Bigfoot, who is still hogtied mind you, throw ‘im in tar, light ‘im on fire, and then throw ‘im into the hell pit as a distraction, all so that King over here could save a baby squirrel. How’s that for coincidence, huh?” Ed was saying.

“As, uh, the King of the Squirrels, I am responsible for all squirrels everywhere. I was only doing my duty,” King said. His gaze jerked off to the side for a moment and he patted the peanut butter on his face. He looked back at Anne and smiled, nodding firmly.

Anne smiled back, sensing her opportunity to leave. Just as she opened her mouth, she heard the ringing noise that accompanied Dark, followed immediately by a knock on the door.

“Come on in!” Ed called.

The door clicked open, and Anne turned to see Dark entering the room.

“Ah, so this is where you’ve been all this time,” he said, locking eyes almost instantly with Anne and looking very annoyed.  “You haven’t been  **slacking off** , have you?”

Fear rose within Anne, and she hastily shot to her feet. “Oh no, sir, I didn’t mean to slack off! I just- Mr. Edgar started telling stories and I didn’t want to be rude, but there was no good opportunity to excuse myself and-” Dark’s eyes seemed to be boring into her expectantly, and she felt the need to explain herself further, but at the same time she didn’t want to dig herself a deeper hole, so she forced herself to stop. “I apologize, sir, it won’t happen again.”

Dark stared at her for a few moments longer, and then raised a hand and crooked his finger, beckoning her closer. “I should hope not,” he said, voice cold.

Anne obligingly stepped closer, feeling apprehensive. 

Dark continued to beckon her until she was close enough for him to step around to her side. Placing a cold hand between her shoulder blades, he guided her out of the room and down the hall.

“Come back anytime, darlin’!” Ed called.

The door almost slammed shut behind them.

Dark escorted her to the elevator, saying nothing the whole way there. When they were in the elevator, the temperature seemed to drop and Anne shivered, minutely rustling the reports she held.

Dark’s gaze was drawn to the sound, and the coldness in his face seemed to lift slightly. “Ah, so you haven’t been **entirely** useless all this time.” He plucked the reports from her grip and gave them a cursory glance before making a satisfied noise in the back of his throat.

Anne had to fight the urge to fidget with the hem of her blouse like a scolded child, instead she soothed her nerves by rubbing her thumbs against the fabric of her blazer near her waist. After a short but indeterminable wait, the elevator opened to Dark’s floor, and Anne followed Dark’s lead all the way to her desk right outside his office.

As Dark was entering his office he paused in the doorway and turned halfway to Anne. “In the future, don’t worry about being polite. Assert yourself, take what you need, and leave. You are under no obligation to humor anyone’s flighty whims. Anything else is wasting your time and mine.”

When the door shut behind him, Anne was left feeling uncertain if she’d been scolded or given a pep talk. She sat down and got back to work, though it was nearly fifteen minutes before her hands stopped shaking.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dark had requested an in-house health check, so Anne went to Dr. Iplier’s clinic later that week. She’d met him once before, but briefly and not in his official capacity, so she had no idea what to expect. She stopped at his main door, a plain white one marked by a red plus. She considered for a moment whether or not to knock, but decided not to and just entered, greeted by the sight of a small but bright lobby. The receptionist’s desk had a sign on it declaring that Dr. Iplier’s office was down the hallway to the right. Seeing nobody around, she slowly followed the signage until she reached the open door of Dr. Iplier’s office.

Dr. Iplier looked up at the sound of Anne’s footsteps and smiled warmly at her. “Hello Miss Dearhart!” His eyes briefly flicked up to a point above her head and then back down. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m here for a checkup, as per Dark’s request.”

Dr. Iplier looked perplexed but maintained his pleasant demeanor. “I can certainly do that,” he replied. “Did Dark specify what kind?”

“Yeah, uh, he said he wanted you to do a… ‘delta class’ checkup?”

Dr. Iplier raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure that’s what he said?”

“Yeah, why? Is it bad?”

“No, no, it’s just… really intensive, there’s a lot of parts to it.” The doctor chuckled. “He must be really invested in you. I wonder what our resident edgelord is planning? Anyway, follow me and we’ll get started.”

Anne was confused and worried. Dark? Invested in  _ her _ ? She didn’t know if the implication that Dark had _ plans _ for her was supposed to be flattering or not. Anne was just trying to keep a relatively low profile, but the knowledge that such an intimidating man  _ already _ had plans for her was extremely concerning, and Dr. Iplier’s casual, almost insulting way of referring to him was equally so. With a start, she realized the doctor was passing her on his way out the door, and so she hurried after him.

The checkup started off like any standard physical: pee in a cup, get height and weight measured, change into a hospital gown and hop up on the examination table. Then things started getting very strange, but Dr. Iplier’s strict professionalism reassured her a little. There was a mobility test (“Excellent, very flexible.”), and then checks for eyes, ears, and throat, all interspersed with a host of personal questions about her health, sex life, and family history of disease.

For the next part of her checkup, Dr. Iplier led her out of the examination room and into a series of other rooms all containing odd-looking machines, some of which she recognized as scanners. He was polite, but there was a certain intensity to his gaze that frightened her; something that did not see  _ her _ , but saw the data she produced. Anne tried not to squirm beneath his analytical gaze, hoping that the way he was looking at her body meant that he was only analyzing her at an atomic level. He guided her into a series of scanning equipment and told to hold her body like this, don’t move, stay very still, and oh, she was doing very well so far, most of the others run out screaming by now.

The last part consisted of physical endurance tests such as running and weights. The doctor’s gaze was as cold and impassive as ever, and Anne was hyper-aware of every droplet of sweat running down her skin and every heaving breath she exhaled.  At the end, Dr. Iplier instructed her to shower and change into her normal clothes and then meet back in his office. Anne went quickly, frightened of the chill in his voice.

When she returned to Dr. Iplier’s office, he was pulling together a summary of the results from the tests. His gaze was serious, but still warmer than it had been during the endurance tests. He stared at her for a moment before sighing. “There’s no easy way to say this but… I’m sorry. You’re dying.”

“What?!”

“Slowly, fortunately enough for you!” he chirped, a smile on his face. “You’re in excellent health, although you could stand to exercise some more, and eat better. You’ve still got-” his eyes flicked briefly to above her head again, “-a long time left. We’re all dying, but some more slowly than others.”

Anne let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, you scared me.” She wanted to tell him off for letting her think she was in immediate danger of death, but ingrained politeness warned her against that.

Dr. Iplier clicked through a couple tabs on his computer. “There’s nothing significant from the test results, so you’re free to go! If Dark asks, tell him I’ll get the report on his desk on Friday.”

Anne smiled. “Alright, thank you! Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, you too.”

Anne was nearly out the door when Dr. Iplier’s voice stopped her.

“Oh! By the way, I’d be careful in traffic going home, if I were you. Road accidents are the second leading cause of death in women your age in the US right now.” He tilted his head and smiled. “Right now I’d say you have no more than about a ten percent chance of fatality in traffic this evening.”

Anne could only stare at him with wide eyes.

Dr. Iplier continued to smile. “You should probably get going, Ms. Dearhart. You have an 8.37 percent chance of enduring grievous bodily injury on the way back to your desk. And that number increases with every minute that passes!” he told her brightly.

Anne stood there for a moment in shock before turning on her heel and walking quickly away.

“Bye-bye!” he called cheerily after her. “If you’re lucky, we won’t meet again!”

  
  


While Anne was walking quickly towards the elevator, a katana embedded itself in the drywall in front of her. She froze, heart practically beating out of her chest. There was an enraged shriek off to her right.

“You!!!”

Anne turned and there was an enraged man in a Japanese schoolgirl uniform and bright red hair marching towards her - _ Yandereplier _ .  _ This must be the “grievous bodily injury” Dr. Iplier was talking about _ , she thought, somewhat dazed and still reeling from the shock of the katana.

The furious man slammed her against the wall and pulled the katana out of the wall and then held it up to her neck. “Stay the fuck away from my senpai!!!” he screeched.

The cool metal pressing into her skin made her go as still as possible while she stuttered out an answer, reflexively putting her hands up by her head. “I- I- I- I’m sorry I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Like hell you don’t! Stay away from him!!”

“I swear I don’t! I have literally zero interest in anyone here, I promise!”

He snarled, pressing the blade further into her throat, but not quite drawing blood yet. “I call bullshit!!”

Anne let out a tiny yelp, head tilting back, and her voice grew shrill and panicked. “Whoever he is you can have him, I don’t care! If I interact with him I promise it’ll be on a strictly professional level!!”

Yandere’s face twisted even more, and for a split second Anne was absolutely certain that this was it, she was going to die here-- but then there was another voice calling out to them.

“Stop right there, Yandere!” 

The Silver Shepherd. Anne let out a sigh of relief. (Dark had told her he was next to useless, but right now he seemed pretty useful to her.)

Yandere whipped around to face him and removed the katana from Anne’s neck, leaving a slight cut on her neck in the process. He growled in frustration, but left his other hand on Anne’s shoulder, still pinning her to the wall. “What do you want,  _ baka _ ?!”

The Silver Shepherd struck a heroic pose- well, as heroic as one could get while wearing spandex and oversized gloves. “Let that innocent woman go, she’s done nothing to you!”

“Oh, yeah?! She’s done everything!!” Yandere shoved Anne roughly against the wall and marched right up to the Silver Shepard, starting in on a long tirade of her alleged sins.

Anne didn’t wait around. She only waited until she was certain Yandere was sufficiently distracted before she sprinted to the elevator, heels and all. She heard an indignant shout behind her, and she jabbed the up button. It didn’t open immediately, like she’d hoped it would. Fuck.

A quick glance behind told her that Yandere had attempted pursuit, but that the Silver Shepherd had captured him in a full nelson hold, and the katana was on the ground next to them. Yandere was struggling violently and shouting loudly in Japanese, and the Silver Shepherd seemed to be having trouble holding him back.

Anne jabbed the button a few more times, willing the elevator to come faster.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Anne was painfully aware of her heaving breath, the adrenaline rushing through her veins that left her shaky, and the shouting behind her. After what seemed like forever, the elevator doors began sliding open and Anne slipped inside as soon as the door opened wide enough and she slammed the “close door” button and a random floor.

Anne glanced through the open doors and a shock of horror ran through her at the sight of Yandere breaking free from Silver Shepard’s grasp, picking up the katana, and starting to run towards the elevator. With a gasp, Anne backed up to the rear wall, willing the doors to close faster. Her heart in her throat, she could only pray that the doors closed faster than Yandere could run.

The doors closed just in time for Yandere to slam into them with a loud bang.

Anne slid to the floor, trying not to hyperventilate, and she was profoundly relieved as the elevator began it’s slow climb, leaving behind the muffled sounds of Yandere’s enraged shrieking. No wonder they’d told her to stay away from him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Anne saw the Silver Shepherd in the break room during her second break, and he looked a little beat up, with bloody slashes in his costume and white bandages visible beneath. She let out a small gasp and went up to him. “Are you alright?” she asked.

Shepherd jumped at her sudden approach, but he smiled. “I’m alright, but I’m more concerned if you’re okay!”

“I’m fine, I was just shaken up for a while there.” Anne smiled at him. “I never got the chance to thank you for saving me back there, I thought for sure he was gonna kill me.”

Shepherd puffed up with pride and put his hands on his hips. “Well, you’re welcome! It was the least I could do for a damsel in distress. I’m very glad I was able to help you escape.”

Anne’s smile brightened. “I’m glad I was able to escape, too, that was really scary. Say, do you know who Yandere was talking about when he was telling me to stay away from his ‘senpai’? I really have no idea who he was referring to.”

Shepherd deflated at the question, looking concerned even beneath the mask. “Dark. Dark is his senpai. I try to stay away from Dark as much as I can even without Yandere looking up to him.”

Anne made a face. “Well shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Dark is my boss. I’m his assistant, he is literally my direct superior, I  _ can’t _ just stay away from him like you can.” Anne sighed.

Shepherd wrung his hands, the oversized gloves squishing at the fingertips. “Well, that sure is a predicament.”

“I can probably bring it up with him, maybe he’ll be able to figure something out to deal with it,” she mused, rubbing her neck. She glanced at the clock and, with a start, she realized her break was nearly over. “Oh! I have to go, but thanks again for saving me, and for the info, you’ve been a huge help.”   
  
Shepherd perked up. “You’re welcome! I’m always very happy to help when someone needs it.”

Anne smiled at him as she started to leave. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you around!”

Shepherd called a farewell as she exited the room, and once she left her face dropped into a worried frown. This wasn’t good, not in the slightest. Barely three days in and she’d managed to get herself onto the shitlist of one of the most dangerously unstable Egos in the building. This was definitely something to bring up with Dark when she next saw him.

Anne sighed again. A very long week, indeed…


End file.
